Patrick Iberi sees himself as a lasting legacy of existential poets. He started writing poetry at the age of 13. A young man of few spoken words, his hobbies include reminiscing, reading old magazines and playing scrabble. At 26 he has written over 500 poems but have yet to publish his own collection. Though he is quick to object to the fact that his poems have their promptings from a first degree in Philosophy from the Imo State University, Owerri, this is all too evident in his works. A reflective personality, he also received a Masters in the same discipline. His works have been anothologised in The International Library of Poetry (ILP). More of his poems have been published in several e-journals and poetry magazines.

Poems by Patrick Iberi

Confined

Patrick IberiYou will not see me drenched in self pity
after all i am the jailer's joy
torn between innocence and freedom
like a night out with puberty
why should i speak again?
when I’ve learnt how to sing
to the chink of lock and keys
and if i sit away in thoughts
who'll alter the chorus
and bestir this lasting calm
that I’ve found in captivity!

You will not see me cower in fright
in this bleak enclosure
what could really faze me?
when i've seen all the wrath man can muster
i am the plaintive testimony foretold
mine is the echo of a desolate voice
floating through the still air
and gravitating towards every eye
that saw CODO write on the gray walls
invoking the secrets of sorrow
poised to swab tears yet unshed

You'll only notice
as i eat up the cloudy day
in hope of a brighter tomorrow
where i will lend a mystic line
to the passage of time
and witness the gothic fables
of undying human frailty
of invocations soaked in despair
sagging like corpse on a hangman's noose
you'll spot me flirt with liberty
and open a new vista for dreams
since the night will not go away!

Time

Time flies so that
We may learn
The ways of the world
And revel in its bounteous gifts
Or get lost in sunken hopes;
It also flies
Incase we attempt
To pause and reminisce
When the anvil itself
Like our bold heritage
Broke into pieces
Who or what'll foretell when...?
Perhaps a stitch could sew
All our thoughts together
For did time not fly away
So our dreams
Must not live
But die in the sunset
When time would finally perch
At Last!

Beholder

Prompted by a million stares
i salivate, i stutter, i speak
words are scarce upon your mirrored gaze
the constant visage of illusion
peering yet again into obscured visions
but seeing nothing
just the mocking blackout
you are derobed time and again
and anointed in the depths of my slumber
where in a hallowed wish;
every lust is primed
how i have beheld the rainbow's hue
and in it seen the world's mysteries
break into an old forgotten tune
which beggars and princes have sang
the heart conceals more
long after our eyes agree
images are forever fleeting
and don't ask me why!

Mine

Make mine bring smoke
but stoke the ears
of this dying flame
more than just a sacrifice
i am tethered in knots
to whet the god's appetite
Make mine a whirlpool
but prop my floundering strokes
as yet a Jonah
i gloat in the fish's belly
blind to the mysteries
of the ancient sea
Make mine a loud sigh
so you'd feel me wherever
propelling your deflated spirits
high up to the skies
in strange whirls
unlike the rusty vane's
Make mine take root
where nothing grows
where no seed roots
i want to lay atop anthills
of secret savannahs
exhaling life's eternal plagues!

Omartá

There you go again
victim of silence
forever condemned to see omens
in our wild celebrations
lulling every beat to rest
where oaths shrivel vocal cords

I have heard you hum
Oh! sister, why not sing?
just so your midnight chants
might steady the flickering flame
and censor the errors
of our unspoken words

Could you come away with me?
that i may moisten your tongue
and hear the music in your voice
divulge secrets you once shared
with the infamous undertaker
when he planted your weary soul!

Persona

I will call you by your name
Lanchata!

Periscope of evergreen collage
You unclick the lens of transformation
The bright smile of a weary mind.

I will call you by your name
Lanchata!

I hear its abiding echo
From the skies which claimed our nylon kites
To the clump of earth above your fore bearers.

I will call you by your name
Lanchata!

And wait outside in the thunderstorm
Seeking the flood which must follow
To cleanse your curse upon me.

I will call your by your name
Lanchata!

When my eyes turn misty
When no one is present to see
Childhood tears dry up on greying beards.

I will call you by your name
Lanchata!

If you hear me in your sleep
Then my voice shall be your awakening
To the essence of this name that you bear.

When We Must Leave

When we must leave this soiled life
to counter tales of guilt
in the abyss of doom
or find a place in cheery heights

what verse shall be on our lips?
that we may jolt the mourning lot
and to them reveal all the pain we knew

what sighs to break the dirge?
when we must sojourn alone
to darkness; to unknown cries of grief
or rest among bright balls of bliss
and drown in jocund laughs
what head shall carry all our thoughts?
that they may bloom and not wither
when we must leave!

Alter Ego

How true it is that
Today is yesterday's tom'orrow
When my nostrils ran
And i licked the dripping mucus
While you suckled on Eshiokwum's nipple

You were both the canoe and the paddle
I, the diver who stayed afloat
Defying turbulent waves

The sea brought you an eel
And i found a shell ashore
Cracked though; I kept it

Amazed at the glint in your greedy stare
I stretch my worn hands
If only you'll take it

And look upon me as your undying shadow
Secured in muted appeals
Yearning for your contentment!